


Shining Shimmering Splendid

by GraceEliz



Series: Tales from Little Concordia [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Coruscant Guard, Eldritch Clones, F/M, Little Concordia - Coruscant, Mandalorians - Freeform, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Planet Coruscant (Star Wars), Soft Boba Fett, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29429553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceEliz/pseuds/GraceEliz
Summary: Boba decides his family should try out Coruscant, and where would he settle but Little Concordia? The only problem is the presence of all his not-brothers, and the fact that Little Concordia is a very different place to Concord Dawn.It's going to be an adventure.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Sintas Vel
Series: Tales from Little Concordia [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162832
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	Shining Shimmering Splendid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the official fic debut of Little Concordia!! The worldbuilding for Little Concordia began with me, but is now such a group effort the place is communal property. I'm using Boba to explore what we've done, and to give him some softness and fluff. This fic will eventually fit post-casefic, when I finish the damn thing.   
> dral'vhekad - bright sharp soil, bright sand, glitter.  
> ad - kid.  
> bajur'yaim - education-home, school. very Little Concordian concept.  
> taab'eyaya - march-echoes, or as Boba points our, marching bananas. banana and clone is the same word, fight us. it's too funny not to do.  
> adiik - child under 13.  
> ge'tal - red .  
> buir - parent.  
> ge'tal'buir - Little Concordian mando'a for a Coruscant Guard Commander.

The spices in the air of the market in Little Concordia are strong enough to filter through his helmet, so he’s taken it off. There’s many reasons he shouldn’t, many reasons he should keep down-low and take only as long as he absolutely needs to, but Little Concordia is as close to a safe space as it could be. It must be the homeliest place he’s ever been, Concord Dawn and his babuir’s abandoned farm included. Spices, and the glints of the Glittercrete – what’s the name for it? Dral'vhekad, or something like that, it must be. Dral’vhekad and beskar’gam in many colours, and Coruscant Guard in red-painted white. Boba feels safe here, surrounded by the noise and bustle.

“What’ll it be, ad?”

He smiles, small, but present. “I’m looking for a place to stay, for my wife and daughter and myself.”

The Mando behind the stall rises up on their toes, a wave-like movement. “Ooh!” Swiftly, they make him up a pair of bread-wraps of the various meats and vegetables on offer, placing one in a box and one straight into his unloved hand. Boba blinks, but takes a bite anyway. Food in Little Concordia is always good. “Whereabouts? And for how many – are you planning on expanding the family? If your girl is under ten, I know there’s a few rooms within ten minutes of a bajur’yaim –”

He laughs, waves the hand not holding his lunch. “Slow, slow, vod. We’re not sure if we’re staying, only here until we get ourselves together. Left in rather a rush.”

The Mando mutters a mando’a curse. “Well, if you head down near the barracks, there’s a few renting-rooms.”

Boba smiles, grateful for the lack of judgement but reluctant to stay near any of his ‘brothers’. He’s not exactly ingratiated himself to them. “Thank you.” He drops his credits on the counter and heads down the street, weaving between colourful stalls and children in bright colours laughing and squealing. At the corner a pair of Guard are leant on the wall, being regaled with an enthusiastic tale by an elderly vod with a scarf draped over her hair and shoulders. Trying not to think about it, he slips down a different road and starts the slog down the levels. Stairs and stairs and endless stairs, but that’s Coruscant.

“Vod, vod!”

He glances around, but keeps walking.

“Hey, vod!” This time it’s accompanied by a tug on his jacket. He stops in his tracks. This is unexpected. The child grins up at him. “Are you one of the taab’eyaya?”

Boba blinks. He’s reasonably sure that eyaya means banana and taab means march, so he’s just been called a marching banana. The kid must mean the clones. It’s better than gotal’ad, at least. “Uh, yeah,” he agrees, glancing around to check he’s not about to be caught. Coruscant under Fox is a safer place than it’s ever been before – he remembers Fox from when he was little, a bit. He’d been kind, but stiff, standoffish. Still, it had been better than the sneers he’d got from other brothers. One had been nice, surprisingly soft and kind, but he can’t remember who that was, not anymore. Maybe he’ll be able to find out now, in this weird bubble of clone-friendliness.

The child bounces. “Can you speak the words? Will you sing to us?”

Shavit. “I don’t know the songs,” he admits. The only song he knows is Kara, and he doesn’t even really know all the words. Ailyn is happy just to hear him hum to her, presses her tiny head to his chest.

“That’s okay, we can teach you,” responds the adiik. Well, he thinks cautiously, he might as well, right? If all goes well he and his family will live here soon enough. “It’s a ge’tal’ade song, ge’tal’buir Aiwa taught us.”

Ge’tal means red, so they must be talking about the Guard. Ge’tal’buir Aiwa – that must be CC Aiwa, he remembers him. The one who could talk to the animals, who could hold the life-force of a creature as if by a string. Aiwa had creeped buir out, but he’d been nice to Boba when they were little. Or, when Boba had been little. Aiwa and the CCs had been so huge, larger than buir. He blinks the memories away.

The child takes a breath, then stops. “Do you speak the mando’a?”

“Not much,” he admits. “My buir died when I was ten.”

Sympathetically, the child pats his leg. “Okay, I know the words in Basic too! The brothers march on planets far, oya, oya, the brothers march on planets far oya, oya!”

What, he thinks in mild alarm, the frick? He knows this one, has heard this song all over the galaxy. It’s a clone hymn, practically. Ner’vode taab’echaajla t’ad bal t’ad, my brothers march far away two by two. Evidently Aiwa had softened it to teach the Little Concordian children. Marching on planets far is a lot gentler than saying my brothers march away to die, that’s for sure.

“Yeah, I know this one,” he rasps, and the child grins in delight.

“You are an eyaya’vod then!”

A clone-brother, yep, loosely defined. “Sure thing. Can you help me out?”

The child nods firmly. “Mhm! What do you need?” They poke at his armour and pull the same ‘well, you’ll do’ expression Sintas usually gives him.

“Not paints, yet,” he half-laughs. “Me and my aliit want to move here. Sintas, my wife, and our daughter are on my ship still. Where should I live?”

With a hum, the kid’s face wrinkles up. “You should ask ge’tal’buir Aiwa, or medic Dral,” they finally decide. “They like eyaya’vode to be together.” One last dazzling smile, and the child scampers off with their sibling into the crowd.

Boba leans against the wall and lets himself think about whether he should swallow his pride and take Sintas and Ailyn to see Aiwa, or whether he should cut his losses and leave before they throw him out.

**Author's Note:**

> Any questions? Observations? Ideas for floofy shenanaganry?  
> Come find me @Knight-Archivist-Lapointe-to-you on tumblr with any Little Concordia asks, suggestions, and questions!


End file.
